


Happy Birthday, Sam Winchester

by Kakuzu_Takigakure



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Beating, Gen, Hero Dean, Neglect, Supernatural - Freeform, Vampire Bites, Vampires, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 22:35:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3913183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kakuzu_Takigakure/pseuds/Kakuzu_Takigakure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is once again alone and left at another motel. What a wonderful birthday that makes. His mind is so cluttered and he's emotionally pained. But the walk he imagined got him in more than he'd think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Birthday, Sam Winchester

The lights of the stores on the street of city passed in blurs. Of course I didn't pay attention to them, nothing could affect me right now, not the state I was in. The cold air rushed through my hair and my cold hands were stuffed in my jean pockets. My chest was heavy, my throat sore, my cheeks stinging with the tears that ran down them. I wiped the mess of a face I had and sniffled. I looked up at the sky, the stars, the moon, the hidden clouds. Even though they shone bright, they still were sad and lonely like everything else. I had left the hotel about an hour ago and now I wandered aimlessly.   
I was alone, like always. May 2nd. Dad and Dean were on a hunt, leaving me at the motel alone.

"Happy birthday Sam Winchester." I mumbled to myself. At least Dean called to try and say happy birthday to me, but that ended quickly with the sounds of screams in the background. Nonetheless, it overjoyed me that he had remembered at the most and made an attempt. I'm sure my Dad forgot..   
Of course it brought pain to family to celebrate my birthday. I mean, my mother did die because of me. On my 6-month birthday... who would want to celebrate the kid's birthday that practically killed their mother? My family wouldn't be like this if I wasn't born. My family wouldn't live like this. We... no they could have been happy. Be normal. I sighed shakily.   
The life we lived was far from normal. My dad has made no attempt to take care of us and Dean practically raised me and still continued to do so, even though he was only 18. My dad would never quit. He is full blooded hunter. Once a hunter, always a hunter. Dean was dragged in at such a young age, it made it even worst.   
My Dad forced him to live this life with him. Dean had to hunt just like dad, to help him, like a sidekick or something. Because of me. It was some sort of "family business" or whatever. But I couldn't hunt with the big kids, I was far too young. I was left at the motel alone, every time, all day, all night, with no one most the time. I thought this time would be different but... Hunting comes first, and just because I don't have much experience, I knew I was going to be dragged in sooner or later. Suddenly a memory flashed in my mind. There stood Dean in the motel doorway with a bag slung over his shoulder. I must have been 10 at the time. 

'Alright, Sammy...' He said as he looked back at Dad who was filing into the car. His eyes were back on me. 'You know the drill.' Was all he said before I responded. 

'I know. Salted all the doors and windows, devil's trap by door and bed, holy water in my water bottle, exorcism on notepad...' I held up my scrawny hand. 'Iron ring, in case of ghosts, my machete, extra salt, and my shotgun is reloaded with rock salt. Don't go anywhere, don't answer the door, no room service, always keep the door locked, and stay low at all times.' Dean looked impressed before he smiled. 

'Attaboy, but you forgot something though.' 

I looked puzzled. What could I possibly forget? I knew that drill all the way to the bone. Dean must have noticed before laughing. He grabbed my hand and slapped a cell phone into it. 

'We shouldn't be gone for long but if anything happens, anything at all, you call, alright? Both mine and Dad's number are programmed into it. Always keep it on you. No matter what. Call.' He ruffled my hair before nudging my shoulder, and walking out, jogging to the car. I remember staring at them slowly pull away and leave. 

_____

The memory ended and I sighed again. Sometimes they wouldn't come back for days. I would still be sitting there, the shotgun snuggled under my blanket, and my silver pocket knife shuffled on my belt loop. It was hard, always being alone but Dean, whenever he was "home", he'd cook breakfast for me (which was usually some kind of cereal or canned soup) and sit and watch cartoons with me, which made up for it all. Or the most it could.   
I continued to walk in silence and turned down into an alleyway but automatically froze when I saw two figures in the dark. One man had the other in a chokehold as the other struggled. The choking one held tightly onto the machete of the one in control but a swift move, his wrist was broken in half. He hissed out loudly and almost instantly, his head was on the ground. His body fell with a deep thud against the ground. My body was numb all over and I couldn't move a muscle. Then, the man's dark eyes locked with mine, causing my heart to quickly jump in my chest in a panic. I quickly tried to make sense of the scene in front of me.   
Dead man; fangs, pale skin, blood soaked lips, claws. That one was a vampire. Other must be a hunter.  
Hunter; machete in hand, bloody clothes, Desert Eagle strapped to his thigh, and a large bite in his neck, leaking crimson blood, soaking his collar.  
I finally broke eye contact and as soon as I got some feeling back in my muscles, my first instinct was to run. Run as fast I can. Adrenaline harshly pumped through my veins as I made my body move as quickly as it could as my chest heaved hard. 

"Hey, get back here! You aren't getting off this easy!" His rough voice yelled. The hunter's heavy stomps were clearly heard right behind me, his loud steps pounding against the ground. I tried to look behind my shoulder to see my enemy but I quickly stumbled to my feet as a loud crack concluded the break of my ankle. I cried out as my first instinct was to nurture the pain but the hunter grabbed my hair and he held that pretty pretty Desert Eagle to my temple. I tried to look up at him. But it was too dark. 

"It ain't that easy..." He said, a smirk in his voice. Before I could respond, a sharp blow from the butt of his gun to the back of my head took my consciousness. 

When I woke up, my head was pounding even harder and I tried to squint through the light that blinded my sight. I tried to move my hands and legs but they were tightly buckled to the arm rests and legs. I panicked for a second before I tried to calm my nerves. 

"And the boy awakes." I heard that new, yet semi familiar voice ring in my ears. I looked at him the best I could through my narrowed eyes. He dug through my wallet, carelessly tossing things here and there, until he found what satisfied him. He smirked. 

"Samm Winchester? With two m's?" He dropped my only form of identification in front of me. An old school i.d. He chuckled. "Wow, this is perfect. A Winchester. A boy of Johnny." He said, condescending before looking at me like I should be scared. A jot crawled its way up my spine. "Well... if I can't have John, I'll just have his little boy." He strolled over and gripped my bloody mop of hair, tugging it back. I loud whimper fell from my lips. He laughed, and tugged my head again. I moan of pain crackled through my sore throat. I let head fall back into his hand, not noticing how exposed I was leaving my neck and throat to him. I stared up at him. He grinned, showing those pointy, flesh hungry teeth popping from his upper lip and slowly through his bottom. I quickly tried to cover up my neck but his grip didn't fail. 

"B-But, you're a hunter. You turned already?" I weakly said to him.

His little smirk suddenly faded, turning dead serious. He let go of my hair, faint blood from my scalp staining his hands. He licked my speckles blood off his fingernails. "That's what the nest does to you." He walked over to a steel table and appeared at my side again, a blade in his hand. "Now... Since you are practically mine now, we are going to show you a wonderful time. This will teach John never to leave me for dead, ever again." He stared at the knife before plunging it into my shoulder. I cried out as my mind blurred, my breath hitched out a painful gasp. Thousands of shots of pain fled to my shoulder and then scattered like a shotgun bullet through my whole body.   
Tears fell down my cheeks and I did my best to stifle my cry. I wasn't crying because of the pain, but because I loved my brother and Dad so much. But this... this pain, this fear and all these feelings, it felt so pure. I could feel my life rushing, my life span dropping, my mind fading. More tears fall to my jaw and dripped off my chin. I bowed my head and let the vamp/hunter pull the knife quickly from my shoulder. I cried out again and the tears continued to fall. 

'I'm so sorry Dean. Dad. I love you two, so much.' All of my thoughts of them flooded my mind. 'I hope they got home okay. I hope that they don't come to look for me. I hope the food I made isn't too cold by now...' The tears cooled my face. This is it. They won't have to worry about me anymore. They won't have to baby me, and they don't have to worry about the little boy sitting at home alone.   
The hunter grabbed my collar and threw his fist into my face, endlessly hitting me. I struggled a bit at first but then I just took it. I let him beat me, I let him pound my face in. I let him make my face drip my own blood.

Wham, wham, wham. First a busted lip, then a bloody nose (which soon became broken), then a black eye, then a tooth. When he was done with me, my face leaked with bloody tears. I was numb and I blinked away from the tears and the black swollenness of my eye.   
"You look like you got nice blood kid..." He said, his breath finally right at my neck. I felt the tip of blade slice through the layer of my neck. I tensed, a whimper echoing from my bloody lips. His finger slid across the new wound, gathering at his tip of his finger as he licked it off. He shuddered and grabbed my head, pulling my head back. Finally, I felt his teeth sink into my neck. I yelled out in pain, my chest heavy with the pain that shot down my spinal cord, my arms pulling at the leather bondings. It hurt. God, it hurt so bad. But seeing my life flash before my eyes brought a sense to me. Tons of memories flooded my head. But it didn't last long until I was panting and I no longer felt the hunter's teeth seeped into my neck. All my new wounds stung and my vision couldn't focus. My head pounded, I was dizzy and a painful ring sounded in my ears.   
My first sense to come back was my hearing. 

"Sammy! Sam!" Dean. His voice was right next to my and finally feeling came back as he was putting pressure on my shoulder, unbuckling my hands. Then taste came into play. Blood flooded my mouth and I spat up, desperate to get the blood out of my mouth and my breath to come back. Then my sight came back for a second, I saw Dean, looking like he just saw a ghost, which he probably did. Panic, fear, and guilt was the last thing I could feel before blacking out again.   
________  
"Sam. Sammy, c'mon, man, wake up!" Dean's voice was shaky, a semi hushed whisper. I tried to move but pains shot through everywhere I could imagine. My legs. my shoulders, my back, my chest, my arms. I tried to open my eyes but only one successfully met my demand. Dean sat at my bedside, his eyes closed and his head bowed. 

"D-Dean?" His head shot up and his eyes met with mine, or at least one of them. 

"Sammy..." He muttered and it seemed like 10 loads of pressure was lifted from his expression. I tried to sit up again, but Dean's hand was a bit firm on my abdomen. "Relax, dude." I looked around at the hospital room I was in. My casted up ankle was escalated and my shoulder and neck were packed up.

"Dean.. Am I going to turn?" 

"Turn? Sam, what are you talking about?" Dean leaned closer, looking at me like I was insane. 

"I was bit Dean.." I said, my voice tight. He sighed. 

"No, you are going to be fine. Well... if Dad doesn't murder you first." 

"How did you find me?" 

"You kept the cellphone on you..." A sad smile was brought to his lips as the memory flashed again. 'Always keep it on you. No matter what.' "We tracked the gps on it." 

I looked down and frowned. "I'm sorry." 

"Sam, what were you thinking?" Dean sounded angry, but I couldn't dare to meet his stare. I stayed silent. "Why would you do that? I mean, how stupid were you feeling?" 

This time I did answer, with a weak quiet "Sorry."

"We were worried... Sam, whatever you were thinking, don't ever do it again. That hunter, vamp, whatever the hell it was, he really could have had you." 

"I know." I mumbled. 

"You know? Then why did you do it?" 

"Because... It felt right. To flee, to have my life—"

"Oh, don't give me that crap." 

I was silent. I had nothing to say or justify what I did. I didn't know how to explain it. I mean, it just felt... I choked down more tears. I didn't want to cry. I didn't want to be sad. 

"Sammy, listen." Dean took a deep breath and looked over at Dad, who was about done filling out some papers. "You mean the world to me. I'm supposed to look after you, Sam. I'm supposed to be the one that takes care of you, even if you are a pain in the ass. Sam, you are my little brother. That will never change, we will always be together no matter what. I know I leave you a lot and alone at that. I wanted to come see you on your birthday, I did. And I'm sorry that I didn't but when this is all said and done, I swear, you won't have to live like this anymore." The room door opened and Dean quickly shoved something into my hand as he stood. My Dad walked over and Dean took that as his cue to go and quickly dipped out. I couldn't look at my father. I couldn't stand the way he made me feel.

"Sam..." He said, tightly. I still couldn't dare to even glance at him. "Why are you so careless? You know you could have been killed out there right?" I could have said so many things to him for a response but I didn't, I chose to stay silent. "Sam, why did you leave the motel room?" 

Finally, I had no more sadness, I had anger. My fists clenched and I locked my jaw. "Oh, I don't know, maybe because I'm contemplating how to spend the perfect birthday. Hmm, try to pray that my dad comes back and actually remembers or go get beat by a hunter? Oh, right, that hunter paid me more attention then you ever will!" I finally looked at him, my eyes burning through him, and my breath rough. 

"i never forgot about you! I would have came home if I could!" 

"Don't even go there! Like you ever thought about how I spend my birthdays and holidays alone!" I cold feel my throat tighten, making it feel hard to breath. 

"You wouldn't know! I do, son! I do, I've always had!" 

"No you haven't! You—" 

"I don't not have to justify myself to you! And I will not!" He had been yelling at me, but this time, his voice actually boomed and his face scrunched up in anger. "If you had just listened to your brother, we wouldn't be here now! If you weren't so foolish and if you just thought about someone other then yourself, you wouldn't be in this mess! This is NOT my fault so, don't you dare think you can pin this one me!" He shakily ran his hands through his hair and his breath came out in anger wheezes before his voice lowered to a growl and his stared dead at me. "If you were just the behaving son you were supposed to be, I wouldn't have to deal with you damn messes." He turned on his heel and made no hesitation to leave. Before my room door closed, I heard a woman. "Visiting hours are over."   
I watched through the glass window as Dean and dad got in the car and left. I bit my lip, but again, I cried. I lifted up my hand weakly and looked at what Dean gave me. 

It was a chained pure crystallized rock, all dirtied and cracked all over. It looked like it was randomly picked up from the ground, which it probably was, but nonetheless, it was pretty. Even this tiny little rock made everything mean more. All I ever wanted was not to feel rejected, alone, and left. I cried quietly again and mumbled to myself again, 

"Happy birthday, Sam Winchester."


End file.
